A year ago today, I was brought to my knees as my world crumbled around me. A year that has been filled with battles, tears, prayers, and finally some peace. As this first anniversary approached, I was filled with conflicting emotions. It felt weird to "honor" this horrific day in remembrance, but at the same time, I felt so desperate to honor the journey that has cascaded from it. In this journey, I have held both sadness and joy for what happened and what could have happened. I have held both grief and hope as all I have ever known disintegrated, but then a spark began to ignite a dream that had long been buried. The path I have traveled this year has been wildly unknown, but it has also led me to true freedom, peace in the fire, and hope for what may come. March 10, 2021 is a day that is forever etched into my mind. It was the day when the writing appeared on the wall, and God finally answered my prayers in the most unlikely of ways.
So for this Ebenezer, I will focus and honor the lessons learned and the faith forged in fire. No longer will this day be framed in tears, but will be covered with the hope and joy that can only come from a redemption song. March 10th will now be a day where I say "Thus far the Lord has been faithful. See what He has done." And...
To those that are trudging through your own Sahara wondering if the desert time ever ends, I see you. Believe me when I say I know how it feels to keep putting one foot in front of the other and trying not to cringe when well-intentioned people compare your plight to the 40 year desert stint of the Israelites. Just know this, that God is still present in the desert times. His sustaining manna is always consistent but sometimes unexpected.
To those who are living day after day after day bruised by their prayers that ricochet off of the ceiling. I see you. I see the waiting and the wondering and the doubts that are closing ranks around you, blinding you to the work that God is doing. Just know God is still working in your waiting.
To those that find themselves wrestling with God in the dark of night, I see you. I see the pillows that have soaked your tears and muffled the moans of anguish as you cast the swirling questions on the God you thought you knew. I see the questions of whether God will come through this time. Does He care about this little thing? He can do this BUT will He? Is my faith strong enough? Just know that He is El Roi the God who sees, He is the God who cares, and He is the God who is ever faithful.
This story is not the path I would have chosen, nor is it one I would wish on anyone. BUT GOD. Instead of a rod to part the Red Sea, he used a lunch box to unshackle my chains. Instead of a momentary quick fix, he gave me a path to true intimacy with Him. Instead of a whisper, He gave me the sign that I desperately needed, one that could not be refuted even as time went on. Instead of my wants, He gave me what I needed and for that I am truly grateful.
March 10th, Thus far has been faithful.
